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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24017434">The Wizard Williams</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bogbees/pseuds/bogbees'>bogbees</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Howl's Moving Castle Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, FACE Family, Family Drama, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, M/M, loosely inspired at the very least, not proof read we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:08:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,635</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24017434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bogbees/pseuds/bogbees</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilbert had expected a simple life; work at his father's hat shop, hide away from society for his appearance, simple stuff. But then some stupidly beautiful man had to get him mixed up in magical nonsense, and then a witch had to curse him with an even worse appearance. It's just his luck.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Canada/Prussia (Hetalia), England/France (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Wizard Williams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This has been in my drafts since december 21st - where i cracked out 13k words in three days I think??? It was gonna be a one shot but even then, it was 1/6th completed, so I think feedback will inspire me to finish it off!!</p><p>And so here we have it: an au loosely inspired by the the movie version of Howl's Moving Castle! I did not watch the movie once while writing this, using pure memory; I used to be able to speak the character lines as they're saying them, but I haven't done that since 2011. so. Enjoy!!!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Gilbert Beilschimdt did not consider himself a very lonely man. He had a brother to dot on and torment, had been childhood friends with the blacksmith and her musician husband. He had a bird who would tweet and twitter to him in conversation. But they seemed to carry on their lives without thinking much about him, which he had decided to take as just an aspect of life, and live on in his solitude. Just him and his little pet bird. He was not lonely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was a hatter. He had been a soldier, had several years in the forces under his belt, climbing through the ranks, until he was discharged for his health. So they said. He thought they were just scared of his eyes, superstitious folks had the tendency to call him a demon, and perhaps his knack for the soldier’s life didn’t help calm their fears. But that was all so long ago, a past life. He was a hatter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was his father’s shop, his pride and joy up until the man died. Being the eldest, and without much else to do, Gilbert decided to take it on, just so his brother had a choice, options in his life. There were employees, making hats for the shop, But he didn’t connect with his them much. He sat alone in his office, keeping a distance to help them not fear him. He knew they respected him, his old title, and his designs, but he could not bear it for them to fear him for his eyes. But regardless of their relationship, the shop had been considered the more popular shops for fashionable head wear, and he was much too proud of the girls and himself for that accomplishment. It was his father’s shop all the same.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat in the old office, out of the way of their sights. Designing a little boater intended for the spring collection, imagining convincing his brother to purchase it for his boyfriend, while listening to their chatter. It was good. Nice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard one of them gasp, another shout, and suddenly they were rushing towards the back window. He glanced up from his work to look through the fog, and caught a glimpse of what caused the commotion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s Williams’ Castle!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And just as sudden as it appeared, it was gone, hidden by the dense morning fog once more. He didn’t quite understand the allure of a mysterious man living in the woods in a house that didn’t sit still, but it made the girls happy, and that was fine enough he supposed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Beilschimdt?” he turned to the door to see one of the girls poking her head through, “we’re all heading out now, would you like to join us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert gave her a polite smile and shook his head, “I’m just about done this, I’d hate to lose the inspiration, because it’s gonna be awesome!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The young girl nodded and in a blink she was gone, the door frame empty and the entire room vacant of any sense of life. Gilbert did not mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He quickly finished up the hat, took a moment to admire his handiwork, before setting it back down. He enjoyed his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He got up and cracked his bones, second guessing that he should have gone with the girls, but he knew women were safest in a pack, and his appearance tended to give an impression not of a protector, anyways. Especially when he would follow after them and stand out of the way. It was for the best he did not join them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He left the office, smiled at how tidy the women left the work room before they left for the day, and made his way into the showroom, grabbing his straw hat off the rack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Checking over to make sure everything was in order before he locked up the shop, he paused in front of the old floor length mirror and frowned at the sight before him. His red eyes popped against his deathly pale complexion and snow white hair. His navy blue vest, periwinkle dress shirt, and brown slacks did little to make him look lively, but he figured it didn’t hurt to dress according to how you felt. He scowled at the thought, he was not sad, and shoved the floppy hat on his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked absolutely foolish. But if he spent any longer practicing vanity, he’d be late for his meeting with his brother. And his brother did not like tardiness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tore his eyes from the mirror and crossed the floor, taking off through the door, barely managing to lock it, and ran to catch a trolley to the other side of town. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The trolley’s run had been cut short, the route blocked off by the parade celebrating the soldiers marching through town. Gilbert did not mind having to walk, he had been very used to it once. No, what bothered him was having to navigate through the crowds. All those people, catching his sight and parting as if he had the plague. It made him sick to the stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he opted to take the alleys, no one would be in there, when the party was happening on the street. He walked, weaving through the paths, smiling to the cats and dogs that startled when he passed by.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he heard voices up ahead he sighed. Just his luck. Getting closer to the sounds, he realized the voices were coming from a pair of soldiers, who seemed to have escaped the parade's excitement to smoke. Ugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hoped that they wouldn't acknowledge him and he could carry on his merry way. But, it seemed he would have no such luck, as one of the men put his foot out in front of Gilbert, stopping him from going further.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Lieutenant Beilschimdt?" he asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course. Of course it had to have been someone he knew. "Is no longer serving the king," Gilbert spoke, turning to the two men dressed for war and nearly grimaced; they were from his squadron. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One took a show of lighting his cigarette, “why was that again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, oh, wasn’t it because nobody wanted to listen to him, with how devilish he looks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Calm your nerves Gilbert</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you of all people know the repercussions of assaulting a soldier, and over something you’ve heard thousands of times over, how foolish can you get</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah, it was probably to do with his brother, you know the one getting married to the fucking scum —”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with that all his composure cracked, “— Why you —”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, there you are,” a sickeningly soft voice spoke, and suddenly he was embraced from behind. He tried to shove off the new offender, but he was held firmly in place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, man, we were talking to him,” one of the soldiers said, with a disbelieving laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were both just leaving,” the stranger said again too softly, and suddenly the two men were marching away, sputtering. Gilbert peered after them, they didn’t seem the type to take orders like that. And Gilbert didn’t expect this stranger to be very intimidating, with that soft voice, he looked up and thought himself to be looking at an angel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man was beautiful. Violet blue eyes crinkled into a smile, straw blonde waves framing his face, a strong jaw made him so handsome. Round rimmed glasses tettering precariously on his strong nose. Then Gilbert realized he had been looking up to the stranger, who seemed to be taller by a few inches and that was the fact that made him feel much too warm in the face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll accompany you along, it’s the least I can do,” the man said and Gilbert nodded, too startled by the events to say anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But, please be aware, I’m being followed, don’t be too alarmed.” And Gilbert wondered what sort of trouble a man who could scare off two cocky soldiers while looking like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> had to be afraid of. Determined, he decided that he would do his best to protect this man from any harm, the least he could do as he had helped him from causing a scene and getting tossed in a cell for assaulting men in uniform. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so they continued walking down the alley in silence, the man still holding Gilbert as if they had been lovers for years, and Gilbert much too busy trying to figure out the situation to make any conversation. He didn’t notice the quickened pace until he caught sight of a shadow moving like a snake and figured out the nature of the stranger’s pursuer: they were a magician. He grimaced, knowing he would not be much help in a fight, much to his disappointment, and then they were running. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t let go,” the man said, and all too suddenly Gilbert found himself in the air; floating on the breeze, high above the town. Well. The stranger was a magician too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the flying fuck—” Gilbert breathed, “put me down right now!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The magician’s face flushed red, “ah, it’s not safe, sorry. This was the best course of action, they can’t follow us up here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t follow us? Are you stupid or something, they can see where we’re going!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As the crow flies…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re going straight, they need to follow the streets on foot, and the alleys do twist and turn a lot, it was a miracle I even found you back there. And also, I’ll have you know we’re safe, because after a bit of walking forward, you can’t even see us over the buildings!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert was reeling. He had gotten involved with some pretty magician’s nonsense. Just his luck. “What do you mean, find me? I’ve never met you before in my life.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To that, the stupid pretty magician had nothing to say, which just pissed Gilbert off even more. They continue forward in silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man didn’t let go of Gilbert, held him tight to keep him from falling, much to his annoyance. He didn’t consider the sensation to be flying, more like floating. Lightly stepping on air, descending as if they were only walking down a set of stairs, which made it all the more annoying, how simple it felt to do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked down, to see hundreds of people below them, celebrating, dancing in the parade, cheering, and none of them would see this scene just above their heads. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a natural at this,” the man says, to which Gilbert lets a cocky grin spread across his face, “buttering me up isn’t gonna make me think better of you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man’s face tints pink, “I, ah, wasn’t…” he turns away from Gilbert’s eyes, only to shoot back with alarm, “where were you headed again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you were just gonna walk me randomly around town?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I hadn’t really… I wasn’t expecting to have been tailed. Or that you would have let me walk with you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert was also rather confused by that last part. How had he let himself get swept up in this, that had been rather foolish of him. Deciding to ignore that, he stared at the magician,  “So you hadn’t thought this far ahead huh. Typical magicians for ya,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, unfair of me to lump you with the rest of them. But, you dragged a civilian into your magical feuds, so that’s that. Do you know that restaurant by the train station, the one that makes the pasta and pretzels?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The magician blinked owlishly at Gilbert, worried at his lip, probably debating arguing with him over some more magical nonsense, and sighed: “yes, yes I know it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excellent, drop me off there and then never go back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can ban me from a restaurant?” he laughed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep, my brother’s marrying the owner, so I don’t want to see your pretty face there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They fell into a silence as they quickened the pace to get the entire trip over with. The magician landed them on the railing of the balcony, and had guided Gilbert to the floor, who felt the warm static of magic fade as he was gently lowered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t go outside for a while,” the man said with his eyes shining bright blue, “they’re probably crawling around looking for us.” When Gilbert nodded in acknowledgement, the man hopped backwards and fell off the railing. Despite himself, Gilbert rushed to the railing, seeking a body broken and mangled on the path below, but found nothing but merry men and women dancing. He frowned. Damn magicians. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Gilbert!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Startled out of the enchanted stupor left by the magic, he turned to see his brother marching up to him with a worried look on his face, "Lutz! Brother!" Gilbert called back, grinning wildly, excited to see his brother.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I saw you — you floated down! What happened? Don't tell me a magician — you weren't spirited away? Are you alright?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nah, I’m good, the bastard just helped me get out of some trouble."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What?" Ludwig's expression worsened, “you’re late so I thought maybe something had happened, maybe with the soldiers in town or —”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm fine, I'm fine. I ran into trouble and was helped out, that’s all. The damn magician just escorted me here. He had a flair for dramatics or something like, you know how they are, showing off. I'm perfectly fine!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Brother,” Ludwig began, “that magician could have been Williams. Or the Woods Witch. It’s very dangerous, especially with this war, you should be more careful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert scoffed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Those magicians, they steal hearts you know. Especially Williams.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Gilbert bristled! People just didn't go around ripping hearts out of people's chests! You had to know someone for more than a few minutes for your heart to get stolen. You needed to actually talk to them and get to know them! He had said nothing of value to the magician, so there was nothing at all to worry about. He was in no danger of the man stealing his heart. He was never going to meet that man again. Even if he had wanted to, since it wasn’t everyday he met someone new who didn’t flinch at the sight of him, the fact he could perform magic tricks be damned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw, I’m touched that you care about me Lutz,” he said instead, reaching an arm around his brother’s broad shoulders for a hug. He cackled when Ludwig’s face flushed red. “You honestly don’t need to mind me, I know how to handle myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert thinks of the gun he’s hiding away, he thinks of the training he keeps up every morning, he thinks over the ways to take down an opponent without much injury. He thinks of how he had been a captain when he had been discharged for his health. He could take care of himself. He doesn’t think of how easily he had gone along with the magician.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ludwig’s expression changes a fraction and Gilbert knows that the man isn’t talking about physical health. He sighs then, and relents. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They talk about the shop, Ludwig’s apprenticeship, his fiance, his wedding plans. Gilbert’s smile does not falter; he dearly loves his brother, but his heart stutters when they get on the topic of his own life. He tells him of the hat he had designed with Ludwig’s future husband in mind, and watches in delight as the young man sputters he shouldn't have done that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they decide to end the social visit, Ludwig walks him to the back door, “you know you can close the shop right. You don’t need to stay there, father wouldn’t mind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert smiles back at his younger brother, “west, I don’t mind at all. Besides all those women would be out of a job if I just closed up. I’d feel bad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ludwig smiled, “it’s like you’re the rooster of the hen house, always looking out for the women. You're a good man."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert clicked his tongue, "yeah of course, I'm your best man. Your wedding is in a month, contact me if anything comes up!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Will do. See you next week then?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, next week. Tell Feli I said hello, and have a good night!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Goodnight Gilbert, careful walking home."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert nods and makes his way back across the town under the sunset. He doesn’t take the alleyways. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When he arrives back at the shop, the sun has dipped below the horizon, and the street lamps have been lit. The most impressive thing being that he had no incidents during his travels, and that no one has broken into the shop while he was away. When he steps inside, the bell chimes with his arrival, he sighs and re-locks the door before making his way across the room, thinking to get some last minute adjustments on his hat designs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He only makes it to the counter before he hears the door open and the little bell chiming with the arrival of someone. Startled, he turns back towards the door, maybe expecting the magician from earlier, and is shocked to find him, or someone who looks shockingly similar but different enough, Gilbert finds himself sickened by the sight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he says putting on his best customer service voice, “the shop is closed for the day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man ignores him. He walks leisurely around the store, looking at the hats, mumbling to himself. Gilbert catches a strong whiff of alcohol waft off the man and groans. Great, a drunk, Gilbert thinks, and makes his way back to the door, opening it wide, “the shop’s closed,” he says, louder and not hiding his contempt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man doesn’t seem to mind the hostility, he just continues looking at the hats on display, talking to himself over the designs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Gilbert places a hand over his gun, ready to pull it out if need be, “Please leave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then the man looks back to Gilbert, right into his eyes, and smiles, “you would honestly do wonderful. You’re just as lonely as he is, you’re both very brave, hmm,” he spoke, “he’s so soft and you’re so hard, but your eyes, oh your eyes match each other beautifully,” and suddenly he’s right in Gilbert’s face and Gilbert can see the same blue eyes as the magician from earlier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to meet Wizard Williams.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I’ve had enough of magic for today, so no, I have no business with a wizard.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I think you do, soldier boy,” he smiled and tapped Gilbert’s nose. He knew then, instantly, that this man was the Woods Witch. He fires his gun only to hear laughter and the click of an empty barrel instead of a shot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked down to his pistol to find it overgrown with vines and sprouts and flowers, a rose blooming out of the barrel. “Didn’t they tell you not to raise your weapons against a witch?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They suggested you should go down with a fight,” Gilbert spat, and the Woods Witch threw back his head and laughed as if he wasn’t just held at gunpoint.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No matter, I don’t really wish to fight. Never really been my forte, violence. So, I will respectfully accept your wishes and leave. Please give my regards to Mattieu.” The man made a grand bow, dipping his body to the floor, while keeping his eyes facing Gilbert, who watches with disgust as the slime on his face glistens in the candle light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Woods Witch jumps back to a stand, as if he remembered something very important, “oh, you’re not allowed to tell anyone about that curse! It’s our little secret.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And just as suddenly, the witch is out the door, the lamps put out in a flash, and Gilbert falls to his knees, heaving for breath. He felt exhausted. The magician from the parade didn’t make him feel like this, so what was wrong with him? He tried to get up but he felt so full of aches, his bones felt so old, and he was oh so tired, he needed to sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so he closes his eyes and without much effort, falls asleep on the floor of the show room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he wakes, the full moon is shining through the front windows. He blearily looks out to figure out where he is, and when it comes back, he shoots up, only to groan in agony. Oh his back, it ached. Had the witch cursed him with bodily pains? Was that how he was going to meet the Wizard Williams, for a fix he could have easily gotten from a doctor? He scoffs and takes his time getting to his feet. He feels so tired, the day must have gotten to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He goes to check the door, make sure it’s actually locked this time, strangely it is and he furrows his brows in confusion. Must need a new lock then, he shrugs and makes his way to the staircase to his apartment above the shop, deciding he’s much too tired to bother with any of the hats tonight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Passing by the display mirror he stops when something strange catches his eye. His reflection. Turning to face the mirror his jaw sags and his eyes widen in shock, an old man with wrinkly skin and moles stares back at him. He doesn’t believe it to be himself, but those are his stark red eyes on his pale complexion, he’d never mistake for anything. He touches his cheeks, laughs pathetically at the reflection, “that’s really me, well damn, I’m hot for a grandpa.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well. He supposes at least now he wouldn't look too odd for his complexion.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Several hours after the initial shock has worn off, Gilbert makes the grand decision to leave. His mind’s set. If anyone sees him like this, a wretched old man, they’d just pity him for this horrid curse when they had already pitied him for his appearance, his discharge, and his job as a hatter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Where would he even go? He thought about it, he had no family outside of town, and really, nothing to do. Nothing to gain from running. He thinks of the slimy Woods Witch, and thinks he could totally find the man again and demand he remove the curse. That’s the plan then, to go after the Woods Witch to fix his situation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he grabs his old knapsack from his army life, and putters around the room, searching for items he’d need for his journey. A change of clothes, a pair of socks, thought better of it and added two more of various thicknesses. A blanket had been secured to the pack, so he needn’t worry for warmth if he found himself lost in the woods for a night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gilbird, we’re going to need some feed for you, sorry we can’t take any toys,” tying off a small bag of seeds and placing it in the bag with his garments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tucks a casing of bullets in under the folds of his clothes, and another in his socks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks around his room again, seeking anything he’s missed: his grandfather’s old flute. It wasn’t a necessity, but he wouldn’t want it to be stolen by looters if he left it behind, so he tucks it in with the other items in his bag. And since he’s taking that, he decides he might as well take his new journal and pen too, perhaps writing his journey would entertain him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stands at his bookshelf, pulling away some books and takes out a little box, hidden behind the tomes and journals. Setting it on the desk, he opens it and finds his extra savings, and pictures. A photo of him, Elizabetha, his best friend and her husband Roderich as children. The other photo was when he was much younger, posing with his father and brother. He smiles at the memories before digging through his desk for an envelope, slips the photos in and addresses it to his brother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He puts the money in his bag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Next, he quietly makes his way down to the kitchen, which had been a task and a half, as his body didn’t want to move very fast. But thankfully, despite how worn his body felt, he was  light on his feet, and none of the floorboards creaked during his journey to the first floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew he didn’t keep rations, as only mad men would still stomach that after returning to civilian life, but he did know he had some food that would last longer than a week if kept well enough. He quietly shifted through the pantry, seeking out dried fruits, nuts, and hard cheese. He eyes the links hanging by the door, having only bought them a week ago, he decides he might as well take them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His pack now mostly full, he raids through the drawers for matches, and after a very thorough debate, he grabs the last of his bread and places it in his bag as well. Seeing the sweets left on the table, hard maple flavoured candy, he dumps the tin into his bag and pockets a few knowing full well he’ll be needing the sugar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deciding he had everything he needs for his journey, patting himself down to find his gun still strapped to it’s holster; Gilbert slips on his coat, ties around a thick maroon scarf, watches as Gilbird nestles into the folds, plops his floppy straw hat on his head, and exits through the back door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one catches him in the act. He is relieved, if not a little heart broken. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes the alleys again, knowing no one he knows could catch sight and recognise his eyes. He feels foolish that he hopes he might see the handsome magician again, as there really wasn’t much to say to the man, completely disregarding the fact Gilbert doesn’t want to be seen in his current aged body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, he’s on the town outskirts, and asking passing carts if they’d like to take him as far as they can. And soon enough, he finds himself on the back of a farmer’s wagon, going as far as the edge of the Woods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he gets off, he finds the farmer’s wife and children waiting for them. He hands the farmer money for the fare, smiles at the children wickedly to scare them. He laughs when they yell that he doesn’t frighten them, and scoops out some of the maple candies from his pockets and gives them, telling them to be kind to their mother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he makes his way to the little path to the woods, he hears the wife ask her husband why he was going into the woods by himself. Alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s going to look for his younger brother,” the farmer says. Gilbert doesn’t wince, thinking of his actual younger brother who would hate him for disappearing like he is.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The Woods, they’re not as terrifying as people say. Sure, he had a lovely view of them from his office in the hat shop, which might have skewed his prespection of them, but he has not come across any dangers so far. He even found a cool looking stick that made him think of being a magician himself. He’s using  it to help him walk on the uneven forest floor and gauge distances between trees. It’s neat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, the little path disappears on him, lost to the forest mosses and grasses, but he keeps on straight. Soon, the sun is directly overhead, good enough time as any to settle down and enjoy a meal. He knew Gilbird would be hungry, he had been flying for some time now, enjoying the fresh air. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sitting on a nice moss covered boulder, he unpacks his food, and decides he isn’t actually hungry enough to eat anything more than a slice of bread and some dried fruit. Gilbert sighs sadly, unwrapping a candy, hoping it would keep his sugars high enough to continue his trek. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes out his flute, polishes it with his sleeve, and starts to play a tune: Gilbird chirping delightedly and sings along. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They continue along like that, singing to another, and when the sun starts to dip west, Gilbert starts to feel the chill of the evening air. He needs to find shelter, and so he walks along, looking into the distance in search for a nice place to spend the night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbird whistles suddenly, beckoning Gilbert to follow after him, “did you find a cave? I hope there are no bears in there!” Gilbert cackles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes, he catches the smell of wood smoke, and thinks Gilbird has found a camp. Following his nose now, he discovers that it was a cabin, sitting in a small clearing of wild flowers that had probably once been an impressive garden.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stepping closer, it was more of a cottage, built to be a lovely summer home for a wealthy enough family. Two stories high, with a red door in the middle. Covered in vines, in fact, all manner of plant life clung to the building, hanging over the door and climbing up to the roof. He would have believed it to be abandoned if it wasn’t for the smoke puffing up through the chimney. The windows were pitch black, even in the dark of the forest at sunset, promising no life stirring behind the walls. But he did need shelter for the night, and he would much prefer a haunted house to sleeping under the stars.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hope you haven’t led me to my doom,” Gilbert chastises the canary as it settles back down into Gilbert’s scarf, twittering lightly, as if laughing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walks up the stone path cutting through the meadow, and up to the bright red door, and knocks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he hears no immediate answer, nor any movement inside, he tries the doorknob, and finds it to be unlocked. He cackles to himself when he pushes it open. He can simply use his old age as an excuse for anything if he finds trouble. Promise to leave in the morning. Pay them with money and candy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What he finds is not what he expects at all. He was picturing a neat and tidy home, white clothes covering the furniture not in use. What he finds in the dim light of the hearth’s fire, is mountains of clutter, dust and dirt covering every surface he can see, and he can smell a foul odor in the air. Sleeping under the stars might have been preferable to this, he thinks.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you a magician?” spoke the flame, and Gilbert could only grin in bewilderment, the fire spoke to him!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he replied, as you were to do, “I’m too awesome to be a witch. Besides, I think I’d have better things to do than barge into lonely cabins in the woods.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fire did not look very convinced, “But you have a familiar in your hair?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s just Gilbird,” Gilbert beamed, “he’s my buddy. Just as awesome as me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you’re a weird old man who lets a bird live in his hair,” the fire seemed to sigh, “I think that might be worse than a witch, but I guess Matt won’t be mad that I let you in the cabin, just for the night though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what are you then? You can’t be just an enchanted fire, brought to life to keep company in this old musty room.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Gilbert startled when the fire cackled, a hearty loud cackle, embers popping as the flames grew in size. “I’m Alfred the star demon!” said the brightly coloured flame, flashing red, blue and white.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A star demon?” Gilbert gaped, sure he must be dreaming now. Talking fires, claiming to be stars, such nonsense could only exist in a dream. But he did see how the fire wasn’t like any traditional fire, it’s flames too sharply pointed, even seemed to twinkle with the flickering light. He supposed anything could be possible with magic. He had been walking on air only the day before, after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re both under a curse,” the fire spoke next, “and I bet yours won’t let you talk about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert’s brows furrowed, how could he have known that so easily?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take that as a yes, then, since, ya know, you can’t mention it anyway. Mine isn’t as bad as yours and boy have I seen some bad curses. I knew a guy who had been cursed to live as a frog until true unconditional love, and the guy who broke it had been cursed to never smile until he had amazing sex! Yours is doable though, kinda easy fix if I’m honest. Especially compared to those guys,” the demon’s flames bounced as he rambled, “so how bout we make a deal? If you help break this thing I’m in with Mattie, I’ll just remove your curse for you, yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert barely understood what the voice was saying, he was too warm, too comfortable in the old chair in the messy old room, too exhausted from the long day he'd had, dozing off to the flickering flame. He heard something about removing a curse, and was happy to hear it, “ja,” he said quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh no no don’t fall asleep, old dude, hey---ugh, fine. You’ve probably had a long walk in those old bones, and you’re gonna need some rest when you meet Mattie.” And Gilbert was out like a light.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When he wakes up the next morning, it’s not comfortably. His neck sore from sleeping funny on the chair, and rudely woken by yelling. The fire from his dreams had been yelling out something about a door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peaking his eyes open, he found himself being stared at by a white bear cub standing straight up, wearing a nice green waistcoat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who?” the bear spoke. Gilbert furrowed his brows. Bears did not speak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Never mind the old man, open the port door.” the fire groaned, and Gilbert watched as the bear walked to the door. Fires did not speak either, but here he is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sits up, stretching his old bones, hearing a snap from them. He settles back and stares at the fire, who seems to be nervously avoiding his gaze. Gilbert laughs, and looks away, to look around the room. The daylight did not improve the sights at all, in fact, it makes the whole place look so much worse. He can clearly see all the dirt, the dust, the cobwebs, the spider webs, he walks over to the windows, the grime and mildew — the sea. He peers out the window and sees the blue of the ocean. That. Can’t be. He was in the woods. The building was in the middle of the forest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turns away to ask the fire about the sights when he comes face to face with a little girl with long light hair and a piercing gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you a magician too?” the little girl asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes, I’m the most frightening bard ever,” he grinned and whistled a jaunty tune.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl sniffs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bear returns with a small package, she exchanges some coins, and without so much as a goodbye, leaves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bear turned to him, “don’t scare customers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Gilbert huffs. The girl wasn’t at all afraid of him, he knows when they are, “you’re a fucking bear, you don’t scare customers.” he muttered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before the bear could retort, a knock sounds and Alfred calls out. The bear goes back, and changes the dial on the door knob, opens the door and Gilbert stands shocked to see the scene behind the two men at the door. The blue of the ocean long gone, replaced with the scene and sounds of a busy city street.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A message to Warlock Jones from the King. He is to report to the king immediately,” one of the well dressed men nods, and the bear nods back, taking the sealed envelope. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the men leave the doorway, Gilbert walks out, mystified. This is the Capital city. He looks back at the building and it wasn’t the same building at all, but the door was the same bright red door he remembers from the night before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bear looks at him, “Are you staying out there?” and Gilbert, without a doubt, believes the bear would not let him back inside after the door was closed shut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is a magic house, huh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t know that when you came in last night? Wow, I guess you really aren’t a witch. Or wizard. Or warlock. Or whatever, I dunno, a bard.” The fire said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well no, I thought this place was just some summer cottage with an enchanted fire that warmed the hearts of visitors.” Gilbert grinned, “That, or a murderer’s cabin, walls painted red with the blood of his victims.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smirked when the fire seemed to shiver. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is The Wizard Williams house.” the bear said. Gilbert tried not to grimace. “How did he get in?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno dude, he wandered in from the woods. Says he’s not a witch, but he’s got a nasty curse on ‘em. Kinda funny, honestly, wonder who he pissed off, huh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then Gilbird decided to flutter over and plopped himself in Gilbert’s hair. Ill timing if he had any hope for improving his image to his hosts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Funny man,” the bear said, “funny curse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Gilbert stood in the middle of the room, a bird in his hair, watching a bear and a fire talk to another. Magic was weird. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” he announced, “I’m hungry. Time for breakfast,” he goes to his bag and pulls out his provisions, smiling wildly, “I’m glad I don’t have to build my own fire for this. Where’s the frying pan?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bear and the fire stop, shocked still. “You can’t cook,” the bear says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh nonsense, I can cook just fine,” Gilbert surveys the space by the hearth, cackles delighted when he sees the frying pan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No dude,” Alfred starts, “he means that as a demon, I’m to only serve Matt. You can’t use me to cook, if anyone is gonna, it’ll be Mattie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I bet you just don’t want to.” Gilbert says, placing his wurst on the pan, and hovers it over Alfred’s flame, “come on be a good fire,” and places the pan down on Alfred’s face.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s using the fire.” the bear says, mystified. Gilbert rolls his eyes, anyone can use a fire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I so did not agree to this, Kunajiro!” Alfred whines, “I’d never let this gross old man cook!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well too bad, get used to it.” Gilbert grumbles, cracking some eggs into the pan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kumajiro pads up next to him, holding a fish, “can you cook this?” he asks. Gilbert shrugs, taking it from the bear to plop in the pan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here’s another curse for you grandpa: may all your sausages burn.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert laughs, “good thing these aren’t regular sausages, these are wurst.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then he notices a presence off to his side, and the sudden quiet of the star demon in the hearth makes him slightly nervous; the castle's master has arrived. He didn’t dare look at the Wizard Williams, busy making sure Alfred’s curse didn’t take effect, just an excuse to cool his nerves enough to greet the man whose house he barged into the night before without so much as a hello. It was rather impolite of him, and if he wanted to stay - did he want to stay? - he needed to calm his emotions. He was sure the Wizard wouldn’t want a loud, brash old man living in his house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you like some too?” Gilbert turns to look at the man, and barely manages to hold a gasp. It was the very same man who had literally whisked him off his feet the day before last. And he was shocked to see him. Did he recognize him? He couldn’t have, his face had aged 40 years since the last time they saw another.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But the fact that he had been the Wizard Williams all along made Gilbert laugh. His brother would be yelling ‘I told you so!’ red in the face, and Gilbert would still not care. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he did not appear to have any resemblance to any of the horrible things people spoke of him. In fact, he was still the beautiful, handsome man: he didn’t appear to have grown any sharp teeth to tear the heart out of Gilbert’s chest, no clawed fingers to rip at his skin, no devil gaze to his eyes that stole away his soul. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, he did have an enchanting stare, Gilbert begrudgingly gave him that much. Such lovely eyes, it was difficult to say if they were violet or blue, and Gilbert thought he might have gladly spent the day trying to decide on the colour, had the man not softened his stare. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man coughs out a laugh, as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing, eyes wide, disbelieving the sight of a hunched old man with wild red eyes using a star demon to cook sausages and eggs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who’s this?” he asked, bemused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The housekeeper me ‘n Kuma hired. Seriously, this place is a mess.” Alfred said before Gilbert could introduce himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A housekeeper?” he mused, “Kumakiki, Al, I would have liked it if you had consulted me on this, but since he’s here, he might as well stay.” Williams smiled softly at his companions, and immediately proceeded to effortlessly shove Gilbert away from the hearth and take over cooking. Gilbert bristled, how rude! He wasn’t just a bag of old bones to push around, he had been a trained fighter, strong as an ox he had been told.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me,” Gilbert said pointedly, “I was doing that,” he gestures to the pan and the sizzling eggs and sausages. Alfred’s fire pops, and he was sure it was actually laughter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wizard turns to him, a smile far too polite on his face, “I’m sorry, I don’t trust anyone but myself cooking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a bad cook,” Gilbert protested, folding his arms over his chest, thinking how he would at least wait a week before poisoning his host.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh I don’t mean to be rude sir, I just mean I don’t even trust Kumamochi with cooking, and he’s my familiar! Fire is a very fickle thing, isn’t that right Al?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alfred’s flames flicker as he laughs in agreement. Gilbert huffs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you’re looking for something to do, could you cut some bread, and fetch the plates?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert sniffed but did as he was told. Kumajiro followed after him with Gilbird still sitting on his head, telling him where everything was located, apologizing for not having any cleaner silverware. They did not eat like this</span>
  <em>
    <span> at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And the wizard called out that breakfast was ready, and they all sat down to eat a hearty breakfast at the table, after taking a moment to push aside a bunch of books to make the room. Gilbert did not frown at the tumble the books took to fall to the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They ate in a rather nice silence. The sausages weren’t burnt, probably thanks to the Wizard taking over the task. The bread tasted stale, and there was a fishy scent to the eggs, probably because of the bear’s herring. Gilbert decided he was fine with this, if this was what his life was going to be like for the foreseeable future, now that he had been hired as a housekeeper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is there anything in your pocket?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert looked up, usually that was a crude joke. He scowled at the gentle smile and bright purple eyes. And reached into his pocket looking for nothing at all only to jump when he touched something. Pulling it out he found a light purple rosebud. Strange, he never was one for flowers, let alone hiding them away in his pockets like some shy love-struck fool.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“May I see it?” the wizard asked, and Gilbert readily handed it to him, he had no need for a lavender coloured rose. When their fingers touched the rose burst into a hot flame and the ashes fell to the table, searing a wild shape into the wood. Gilbert watched in wonder as the magic twinkled in the engraving, as Matthew glared at it. Kumajiro sighed, “It's him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Gilbert asked, very curious now as the random rose in his pocket turned out to be magical in nature, and making the rather reserved wizard across from him appear mildly enraged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Scorch marks, an old magic only really used by those who care about beauty. Which is foolish, if you want my opinion, because look at it, it ruined my table. This is hand carved maple!” he sighed, pushing his glasses back on his nose, “doesn’t help that the message is a sort of threat, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>frozen boy who stole away the star, your heart and home shall be with mine.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ Who even says that in this day and age, ridiculous,” and suddenly he was pressing his hand very hard against the mark, his lips twisted into a wild grimace as he forced the sears away with nothing but pure magic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert watched in awe as the table appeared good as new. The wizard seemed to preen, very proud indeed that this had impressed him. He got up, clutching the hand he used to remove the magic, and smiled at Gilbert, “I don’t think we’ve actually been introduced yet. My name is Matthew.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert nodded, amused that they were only learning each other's names now, “Gilbert, at your service.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Al and Kumahiko can give you the house rules, and I wish you luck,” and then the man was ascending the stairs.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>just to give you a scope at how long this is, this chapter is on page 17 of 42, with nearly 18k words. I'm missing a bunch of parts still! I asked a friend why it was so long and they were like, "it's the love," and lemme tell you i teared up a bit.</p><p>Also! any grammar errors you find will be fixed by the time this whole thing is done! and I'll probably have things changed here and there too. And there will be art! bc I hope to illustrate this lmao. I'm mostly just posting this to get it OUT</p></blockquote></div></div>
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